


That Limitless Imagination of Mine

by Derpy_is_awesome



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Imaginary Friends, Imaginary friend AU, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Keith/Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Orphan Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pre-Keith/Lance (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Strangers to Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derpy_is_awesome/pseuds/Derpy_is_awesome
Summary: When Lance was young, he had an imaginary friend named Keith who kept him company when he was lonely, too shy to go make friends.Now, years later, Lance finds Keith wasn't always just an imaginary friend- He's apparently alive, in some way.Now, Lance is determined to find out who Keith really is- and why he's so much hotter as an adult.Through this short adventure, follow these two dorks as they figure out Keith's true past and fall in love in the process.Get ready for a roller-coaster folks, this author is about to squeeze a whole adventure into like three chapters.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Lance's Family (Voltron), Matt Holt & Keith, Shiro & Adam & Curtis & Matt & Keith (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. The Return of A Friend, Albeit Rather Shocking

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's updating again.  
> That's write.  
> Me.  
> Don't mind the pun.
> 
> Anyways if you read the tags you probably saw the "I'm in a writing mood and no one can stop me" tag. Yeah. It's true. I haven't been able to properly write in a long while so I don't want this thing to end lol. I'll mainly be posting old Klace ideas/one-shots I made but never wrote.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy it!  
> Drop by the comment section and leave your opinion, I love seeing 'em!

**_That Limitless Imagination of Min_ ** **_e_ **

**_< ~{Chapter One}~>_ **

**_< -~The Return of A Friend, Albeit Rather Shocking~->_ **

Lance McClain liked to think he knew a lot of things.

And- yeah -he did.

He knew plenty of things. He knew how to do math (somehow), he knew his family, he knew what a genuine smile compared to a fake smile looked like.

He knew the difference between real and imaginary things.

Or so he thought.

Flashback to when Lance, currently nineteen years old, was five through seven and a half. He, albeit very talkative, was shy at that age. He never really knew how to start a conversation on his own accord.

That’s how Keith came to be.

Keith, Lance’s imaginary friend. Keith, who would talk with Lance quietly whenever his parents were yelling at each other. Keith, who comforted a seven-year-old Lance when he cried as his father packed his things and left the house, taking Luis and Marco with him.

Keith, who had been Lance’s best friend.

Keith, who Lance missed talking with to this very day.

Now don’t get me wrong, Lance still lived his life, lived every day and every next day and whatever, but he never really forgot about his old friend.

Even after eleven and a half years.

No, Lance never forgot about his friend. Lance never did think that Keith was real though, not after Keith stopped “talking” with Lance.

But then… Things always seem to take the most unexpected turns when it comes to Lance’s life.

It  _ had  _ been a normal day, he had been hanging out with Hunk and Pidge at his apartment, the trio studying for an upcoming exam.

All friends in the same college (Altea University), with the majority of their classes shared, the three usually did this sort of thing- studying together and then relaxing the night away with a movie.

That didn’t happen today.

Not exactly, at least.

Lance had been snuggled into the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Hunk was lounging on a dark, midnight blue beanbag Lance owned, Pidge was sitting criss-cross on the floor. The Lady and The Tramp (“IT’S A DISNEY  _ CLASSIC _ ! WE MUST WATCH IT!” argued Hunk) was playing on Lance’s TV, a popcorn bowl sitting abandoned on his small coffee table, which had been pushed to the side of the room for the night. The apartment lights were dimmed and Lance was pretty sure everyone was close to dozing off when Pidge nudged him.

His attention flickered from the movie to his friend in an instant, an eyebrow quirking in question. She waved a blank phone screen around in the air about a foot from where his face was, “Can’t stay tonight; A friend is gonna pick me up and take me to his dorm. He’s roomies with Matt.” She explained curtly, voice hushed. 

Lance nodded, “When’s he coming?” He asked, already untangling himself from the blanket so he’d be prepared to go to his door when mystery guy was here. (Really he’d probably just walk Pidge to the door to say goodnight, but still.)

Pidge turned her phone on, glancing at it before she replied, “Three minutes. He’s probably about a block away.” Lance hummed, eyelids sagging slightly. “ ‘K.” He waved his hand in dismissal, “Tell me when he’s here, I am gonna take a two-minute nap.” Pidge scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning back to the screen.

Neither bothered the lightly snoring Hunk as seconds ticked by.

It was the scene when Lady and Tramp were about to “kiss” because they had been eating the same bit of pasta when there was a soft knock on the door and Pidge jumped to her feet.

“There’s the e-boy.” She muttered softly, gathering her hastily packed bag and other belongings as Lance got to his feet.

Dragging himself over to the door, Lance went through the quick process of opening it up, and when he swung the door open- Well, he wasn’t prepared for the familiar face he saw.

_Especially_ not when he was half-asleep.

Blue eyes snapping wide, Lance lurched back, hardly withholding his startled scream as he saw and  _ recognized  _ the person at the doorway. Roughly an inch or two taller than the Cuban, wearing a black, form-fitting t-shirt and jeggings that were cuffed at his ankles, long black and messy hair that was somewhat brushed in a way that made it look natural- and those  _ eyes.  _

_ God _ , Lance would never forget those eyes.

Spluttering, Lance slammed the door on the man as suddenly as he had opened it, face blazing because-  _ damn! _ Lance did not remember Keith being that hot when he was seven!

Pidge had walked forth from the living room area and watched the scene play out with amused eyes, though her creased eyebrows and slight frown expressed her clear confusion.

“Jeez, Lance. I mean I get Keith looks fucking scary but he’s not a murderer.” Pidge snarked, frown letting up as the edges of her lips quirked, mirroring the amusement in her eyes. Lance’s own eyes only narrowed at the female as his blush faded, the male letting out a breath through gritted teeth.

“Ah, no- He just- Startled me- I guess.” Lance stammered, cheeks tinted pink. 

Pidge didn’t seem convinced, but let it go with a shrug. 

“O...k then- Well, if you wouldn’t mind, I gotta go. My Uber guy slash friend is outside your door. You know, the one you slammed on his face?” She prompted, teasing. Lance only shook his head firmly, thoughts and heart racing as he turned and opened the door, eyes instantly raking over Keith’s familiar features again- once, twice.

Keith had a phone in his hand, lips pursed in a cute- curious, not cute, pout, and Lance could easily see a chat was displayed, the male’s fingers pausing in their typing as the door opened. Violet eyes flicked up, confused and even showing a hint of concern, before Keith was tilting his head, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his jeans. 

Lance let his eyes go over Keith one last time, the Cuban puffing his cheeks and averting his eyes quickly to not get caught. 

Then, “Uh, hi? Is Pidge- er -Katie Holt here?”

Lance felt goosebumps rise along his arms and shivered, memories flying through his head. Keith’s voice had a rasp to it of sorts, though it didn’t seem to lack the sweet honey-like tone Lance had been accustomed to hearing when they- no, when  _ he  _ was younger. He looked back up, blinked, even rubbed at his eyes- Keith still stood there, patient and awkward, each time he blinked his eyes open.

And after a moment of unbearable, awkward silence, Lance found his voice and muttered quietly, “Keith?”

There was a slight noise of confusion, no doubt from Pidge, but Lance’s eyes were on Keith, waiting for a reaction.

There was a pause, a slow blink where those violet irises disappeared behind pale eyelids and a pretty display of nicely curled lashes, then Keith was staring, his confused pout returning and his head tilting to the other side, as if he’d get a better view of Lance somehow.

“Um… Who are you?” 

Lance’s face fell subtly,  _ Oh _ .

_ So that’s how it was going to be then. _

Lance would think about this in the future, remember his reaction to this crazy, once-in-a-life-time event, and laugh fondly before reminding his friends of the story.

It _seemed_ his imaginary friend wasn’t so imaginary.

It seemed his not-imaginary friend had "forgotten" him- somehow. 

But, if Lance was known for anything, it was his determination.

(Stubbornness.)

And Lance was certainly determined to get to the bottom of this, whatever  _ this  _ is meant to be.

The Universe had given him quite the odd challenge with a buttload of nostalgia dragged along after it, but Lance believed he was prepared.

Oh yeah, he’d beat this challenge in the face.

And- hey, maybe he’d learn a few things about his old friend and his  _ new  _ feelings along the way.

<-~->

Pidge had left Lance’s apartment swiftly, Keith in tow.

Lance had watched as the two laughed and jostled each other quietly, his eyes mainly glued to the male with the mullet- which, frankly, had always been there now that Lance thought back to the memories he had of a younger Keith.

Keith, even with such a horrid hairstyle (not really horrid of course, Lance just wouldn’t accept the fact his friend from so long ago was now pretty), moved fluidly, with an air of confidence Lance would never be able to summon this close to midnight without alcohol. Lance couldn’t refrain from scoffing as he watched the two leave, about to return to the movie to try and drift back to sleep. He was nudging the door closed with a shoulder when he caught it.

Just a single look, violet eyes flickering to meet his and sparkling in a moment of recognition, before the door swung shut on its own accord, resulting in Lance scrambling to pull it back open just a smidge. 

Keith and Pidge had already disappeared around the corner leading to the stairs of the apartment building.

It took Lance a minute, maybe two, to let out a quiet exhale and to move himself away from the crack in the doorway, gently pressing the door closed again with a soft  _ click. _

Lance was going crazy. 

This was just a weird fantasy/dream of some sort, surely.

Keith did not- could not -exist! That whole encounter had been too… Out of the ordinary. And not the normal type of “out-of-the-ordinary”, either! No, that was  _ WAAAAAY _ out of the ordinary!

Lance was definitely crazy.

By the time he had trudged back to the living area, the movie was far past the “falling in love” scene, leaving Lance to sit with a huff and watch the Tramp kill a rat.

Pleasant.

His mind was reeling, two different images of the same guy flashing through his head.

Was it possible Keith had always been a real person and young Lance had somehow mixed something up?

No- Lance doubted that, no matter how logical it seemed. He remembered how he had been as a kid, too shy to even leave his mother’s side at the park until his siblings urged him on, and even then he’d hesitate. He remembered playing with Keith in his home, alone without disruptions from his siblings- that would’ve never happened had Keith been real. 

The more Lance thought about it, the more bizarre everything seemed. Lance could feel in his gut he wasn’t wrong about knowing Keith from when he was young, the last look the two had shared in the hall just minutes prior and the fact that both Keith’s, past and present, looked  _ exactly the same _ , couldn’t be coincidence.

But… Still, though Lance had the wildest imagination known to man, he still didn’t like to stray far from the lines of logic implanted in his mind.

And so, following these straight lines of logic, Lance plowed through every logical explanation for this… More than abnormal occurrence.

Unfortunately for the young adult, he couldn’t keep this up all night.

As the credits of the movie rolled, as Hunk stirred and mumbled something in his sleep, as seconds and heartbeats ticked by rhythmically, Lance found himself drifting off, body tilting till he was leaned against the cushions of the couch, eyelids drooping, and thoughts slowing before his dreams took flight.

Maybe he’d figure out some more in the morning.

<-~->

Ok, so, long story short, Lance didn’t find out anything in the morning.

In fact, for the next week, all mentions and sightings of anything Keith related had completely disappeared from Lance’s life.

He had been about ready to accept it was all a dream, when Pidge asked Hunk and him one day if Keith- (“Yes, Hunk, the one that picked me up last week while you were snoring louder than a hog,”) -could join them for lunch at the Balmeran Cafe.

Hunk had agreed, and Lance did too- it was time to figure some stuff out.

Of course, things don’t always go as planned.

It had been the perfect opportunity, Pidge was ordering everyone’s desired food and drink (which, Lance had made sure to order something specific for the sake of annoying his smaller friend), and Hunk had made a beeline towards the restrooms. Lance had hidden a small smile, blanked out his face, and had asked calmly.

“So, do you believe in imaginary friends and stuff like that?”

Not his greatest conversation starter, but he wasn’t exactly trying to have a pleasant conversation.

No, Lance had wanted answers.

The conversation went something like this;

“Mm, not really. Why?” Violet eyes filled with unrestrained amusement, a coy smirk on the paler male’s face.

Lance had known he was being toyed with, “Yeah, I do. Remember I used to have an imaginary friend. We’d run around all day together.”

Keith had quirked an eyebrow, a fisted hand coming up to prop his chin, his other hand casually lying on the table, tapping out a tune. “Really? That’s nice. Never could imagine myself an imaginary friend; guess my brain just wasn’t built for it.” A short chuckle.

Lance had decided to prod deeper, “So… You and Pidge are friends? She’s never mentioned you before.” He kept his tone nonchalant.

“We met recently, clicked instantly, I’ve known her brother longer.”

They went back and forth with questions and curt answers, speaking as if creating a skit of an interrogation, Keith’s whole demeanor amused while Lance grew frustrated the longer everything went on.

He felt he was about to snap and demand the truth- whatever it may be -but was stopped as an irritated Pidge trekked back to the booth. “You-” she jabbed a finger at Lance with a deadly glare on her face, “-are the worst. I messed up saying your order like three times. Reputation? Ruined.”

Keith had snorted (Lance refused to acknowledge the thought of ‘cute’ that flitted across his mind), and then had dragged Pidge closer with a firm grip on her arm before using his free hand to ruffle her hair, teasing with a snicker, “What reputation, Gremlin?”

Whatever talk that had been going on between Lance and Keith had stopped as Pidge began bickering and bantering with the both of them, Hunk soon rejoining the table. Only two minutes later and they all ate, relatively quiet as they enjoyed their food.

The four chatted for a while longer, food and drinks diminished to crumbs and sips, then came the time they were about to head off. Lance had gathered his small assortment of things, and stood, when Keith had slipped a small slip of paper over to him, fingers releasing the slip when Lance noticed it.

(Where Keith got the paper, Lance had no idea- he certainly hadn’t seen any paper on Keith while they were sitting down. But, whatever.)

“Here. Take it,” Keith urged with a chuckle as Lance hesitated, “Call me, we can continue this interesting little talk of ours.” He teased, a hand coming up to firmly pat Lance’s shoulder before Keith was following Pidge out the cafe door, laughing at something the girl said.

Lance found himself staring after Keith, dumbfounded. But, regardless, he took the slip of paper and stuffed it into the pockets of the light blue sweater that was hanging off his shoulders. 

Lance, though begrudging of becoming friends with this “mystery man”, was willing to use this to get whatever information he wanted about… 

Well, whatever  _ this  _ is.

<-~->

Skipping forward three weeks, and Lance was practically best friends with Keith, albeit “non-consenting”.

Lance had used the number Keith gave him, they had talked more the day right after.

Lance had gotten no farther than he’d gotten in the cafe.

Frustrated, as he had been the previous day, Lance had been  _ this close  _ to simply hanging up, when Keith had relented- somewhat.

They had spoken more, Keith seemingly more serious, but Lance still didn’t get much from the conversation aside from Keith’s vague backstory. 

(Which- it was sad, even without details, Lance practically cried--)

Keith had been the one to end the conversation, halfway through explaining curtly how he met Matt and Pidge- someone had called his name and he had yelled something back before he addressed Lance, the smile in his voice obvious.

Lance could only guess who made Keith seemingly smile so fondly.

He ignored the older part of him that hoped it could still be him.

Lance had left the conversation befuddled, though, for Keith’s parting words had been nothing short of cryptic.

I mean, how cryptic could the words, “ _ You’ll find out what I mean shortly, bye Lance. _ ” possibly be to someone who had no idea what was going on!

(Someone like Lance, for example.)

  
But, in the end, Lance was indeed left to find out  _ exactly  _ what Keith meant.


	2. To The Time We Lost Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith explains everything and Lance isn't quite ready to believe him yet.
> 
> Meanwhile, Keith may have a bit of trouble brewing in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This chapter took me a while to work out, but it gives everyone a good look into Lance's past and parts of Keith's life without Lance. :)
> 
> Hope it's good, kinda iffy on the end but hopefully you all can enjoy it :D
> 
> Happy reading!

**_That LimitLess Imagination of Mine_ **

_ <~{Chapter Two}~> _

_ <~{To The Time We Lost Together}~> _

  
  


When Lance had met Keith in their childhood, he had “found” the boy literally hanging around in a tree.

Instantly, (shockingly for young Lance), Keith had taken a liking to the young Cuban and had befriended him. When Lance was older, he believed the only reason Keith had befriended him was because Keith had no choice; to everyone else, at the time, Keith hadn’t existed.

But… Things were different now.

Lance would never admit it- he’d probably die of embarrassment if he ever had to -but having Keith around and not having his full attention… It felt weird, made Lance have the feeling that one thing or another was completely out of place. 

No- it was  _ not  _ jealousy.

If it was jealousy, that- that’d just be  _ weird _ .

To Lance, (even if they were friends) Keith was still as real as a unicorn.

Which, aren’t exactly real at all in Lance’s opinion.

But no, Keith was  _ apparently _ , definitely real.

And, Keith was  _ apparently  _ texting Lance now.

Lance glanced down at his phone, where the bright screen portrayed the notification, “ _ Hey! I’m heading to the Balmeran Cafe again. You can join me if you want to hear the rest of what I was talking about yesterday. I’ll be there around eight or nine, probably nine. _ ”

That text had been sent at five, a.m. Who, in their right minds, woke up at five in the morning?!

Keith.  _ Apparently _ .

Now, almost three whole hours later, Lance was waking up once more, the gentle ringing sounds of his alarm tugging him leisurely out of his rest. Lance let out a yawn, back arching as he stretched his arms out above him with a quiet groan.

He was tired, probably because he’d stayed awake past midnight studying, then had gotten a good thirty minutes of sleep torn away from him from when Keith had texted him, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep in any longer, not if he wanted to get the rest of his answers from Keith.

Lance didn’t spend too much time getting ready to meet Keith (though he did take a bit of time to tame his hair into something above his usual “decent” look), and soon enough he was on his way, walking the familiar route from his small, cozy home towards the Balmeran Cafe.

Walking into the small shop, a bell ringing above the door announcing his entry, Lance glanced around, assuming he was a few minutes early when he didn’t see the familiar mop of black hair that he knew belonged to Keith. Sighing quietly, Lance made his way to a small booth, eyes flickering over each person in the cafe boredly. 

Lance stayed silent as he waited, and noticeably perked up despite himself when he saw Keith pushing past the entrance to the cafe, holding the door open for a couple of girls who giggled and sent him two matching smiles in gratitude.

Lance scoffed slightly, choosing to ignore that little scene, instead waving Keith over with two large hand gestures that Keith caught easily, walking over with the same confidence in his step Lance always noticed, and an easy grin on his face.

“Hey stranger, what’s with the pout?”

Lance rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with an irritated huff as he leaned back in the booth, watching as Keith sat down across from him, eyes amused as he leaned forward, his own crossed arms leaning against the top of the table. 

“I’m not pouting.”

Lance was definitely pouting- ok he was, but just slightly.

Keith chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “Alright, Lance. Whatever you say. Anyways...Do you want to get some food or a drink before I start?” Lance shook his head no, and Keith only shrugged in reply. “Alright, lemme grab a water and a cookie real quick.” He murmured, standing before Lance could reply.

Lance watched him go, letting out another irritated huff before planting one hand under his chin and propping it on the table as he waited.

Keith returned shortly, two waters and a cookie in hand. He silently passed Lance one water bottle, which Lance only arched a brow at, before he set his other stuff down and averted his gaze, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well… I already somewhat explained what happened between the time I… became real and when I met Matt. I’m guessing you want to know how I’m… alive?” Keith asked, violet eyes studying Lance’s face closely as the Cuban nodded without a word.

“Alright, I… I guess I’ll start in a time we can both remember. Lance McClain, age five and a fourth I believe…”

Lance sighed quietly, uncapping his water bottle and accepting the fact he would probably be listening in for a while.

<~-~>

Lance McClain, age five and a fourth was nothing but shy.

Extremely so.

Roughly three feet tall, Lance had liked to hide from others, almost hated having to socialize, sometimes even with his own siblings.

To him, other kids were just too rowdy, too loud, too… Too  _ much _ .

When he was three months away from turning six, he found himself to be lonely. Despite him having two older sisters (Rachel, his twin, only older by a few minutes of course), and two older brothers, he wanted to know someone different.

Someone who he didn’t have to see every day every hour, someone who was just a tad more quiet, patient,  _ calm _ , compared to his older siblings.

Someone being, as it turned out, Keith.

Lance liked to hide, hide from his family, hide from the world when he needed a break, when he needed to escape the shouts of his fighting parents, when he needed a quiet nook where he could simply relax as best as a hyper toddler could.

So, one day, Lance was hiding under the protection of a large oak tree. He had run from his siblings to the tree. The family had left their home to visit a park that wasn’t even three blocks away, and while his siblings swung about and ran around the play structure, Lance… Well, he hid.

His older sister, Veronica, had tried convincing her brother to talk to some other kids that were playing on the swing set. A boy and a girl, both with blond hair and wide grins. They had been welcoming, but Lance disliked every moment he spoke with them, unnerved by how the girl had stared at him and how the boy continuously poked him, albeit playfully.

When he got the chance, he fled, and now he sat beneath the tree, mind filled with a young anxiety that came from the boy’s shy nature.

That’s when Keith had dropped in- literally.

Lance had been on the verge of tears, unable to restrain himself from the sadness and loneliness he felt.

With how young he was, Lance didn’t understand much yet. He didn’t understand what the difference was between his energetic, friendly siblings and him, a shy little boy. He couldn’t understand that people would be people, didn’t understand why that scared him so much, in a way.

He just didn’t understand.

With Keith’s help, he later did understand.

But back then, under that big oak tree, he hadn’t. But Keith had understood one thing himself- he understood how to be persistent.

Lance had believed Keith was real as any child believes Santa delivers gifts during Christmas, and with Keith’s determination and friendly nature, something had clicked between the boys.

And with Keith, Lance wasn’t so shy anymore.

Lance had found something in Keith, something important.

He had someone he could trust, could talk to, he had someone who would be there for him when he needed a helping hand.

With Keith, Lance had a friend.

<~-~>

Lance McClain, age six and a half.

Lance’s room was silent as the boy pressed the tips of his fingers into his ears, muffling the shouting coming from the kitchen.

“Please… Please stop fighting,” he whispered, body hunched as he pressed himself under his small blanket fort.

He had been playing with Rachel, creating the fort, giggling and shoving each other playfully as they played pretend, when the shouting started. Rachel and Lance had both gone wide-eyed before Rachel had dashed out of the room, racing for her own. Lance had already closed his door behind her when he heard his mother’s angry voice.

He quickly tuned out her words as his father shouted something back and scurried into the blanket fort once more.

He couldn’t find it in himself to move from the small fortress he had been hiding in with his ears plugged, a small lion plushie squeezed against his chest.

The noise from his parents had only increased in volume when Lance heard an almost inaudible tapping at his window. Peeking up from where he had buried his face against a pillow, Lance was surprised to see Keith was at his window, face pressed close to the glass and a small smile on his face as he waved hello.

Lance was quick to open the window and allow the boy in after a moment of struggle.

He didn’t bother thinking of how Keith got to Lance’s house by himself. To the six-year-old, it hadn’t mattered as his friend joined him in the small little fortress of blankets and began telling him a story of a big, brave dog named Kosmo. The six-year-old didn’t believe anything else had mattered aside from Keith’s comforting warmth at his side and the adventures of Kosmo, the heroic wolf-dog from space.

When Lance was older and looked back on the memory, he’d tell himself he’d imagined the whole thing as a way of distracting himself.

But at the time, whether it was real or fake, it hadn’t mattered to Lance.

All that mattered was Keith’s small giggles and jokes, his laughter and shining eyes as he and Lance played until the shouting stopped, and then far into the night until Keith had to go home to his dad.

<~-~>

Lance McClain, age six and three quarters.

He didn’t know much yet.

He didn’t realize what love was, what true problems were, he was just a kid.

He was just a kid, before he had been forced to learn a lot about a true problem that could split love apart.

It had been a quiet Saturday.

Keith had been hanging around today, much to Lance’s delight, and currently, the two were settled in the living room of the two-story house Lance knew by heart, the TV playing a show Lance couldn’t remember the title of. The two boys chattered leisurely, giggling at jokes and pressed together in their own little dogpile. Lance was half draped over Keith, using Keith’s shoulder as a chin-rest while he lazily followed the character across the screen. Keith didn’t seem to mind, the boy laying against the carpeted floor with a content smile on his face as he exclaimed an answer to the character. Lance didn’t bother answering, simply staring at the screen in anticipation as he waited for the person to choose which path they’d take and continue on their adventure.

“I’m hungry.” Lance had idly complained, and Keith grinned in the way any eager child would at the thought of a tasty snack. Then, with a playful shove against Lance’s face, Keith had exclaimed cheerfully, “Let’s eat then!”

The two boys clambered to their feet, stumbling over each other on their way to the kitchen when the door to the house entryway was slammed open. Both boys froze, and as Lance whipped around to face the person entering, he missed Keith’s alarmed frown and panicked eyes, as if the boy knew what was happening.

Lance’s mom, Rosa McClain, was  _ fuming _ .

“I can’t  _ believe  _ you!” She snapped, voice raw as if she had already been shouting. Lance flinched back at her tone, as if he thought his mother was yelling at him, before the woman turned and glared at her husband, who entered the home with a firm glare etched into his own eyes.

Lance whimpered quietly, knowing what was about to happen. He watched as his father tensed, as his mother opened her mouth and raised an accusing finger, but before either of the adults could say anything, Keith was rapidly tugging the young Cuban away.

Lance followed the insistent tugs on his wrist that came from Keith, who led the two to the backyard of the house where there was a small garden of flowers and vegetables. “C’mon Lance,” Keith urged loudly, volume drowning out the muffled racket from inside, “let’s play a game or something. And- I can tell you a story? My mo- My dad told me a story about a giant fish in space the other day.” Keith grinned, and Lance couldn’t tell it was forced.

He didn’t understand fake smiles yet.

He would someday, but for now, he’d let Keith simply tell him about the giant space fish as they sat next to each other in a small garden of flowers.

<~-~>

It wasn’t long after that day when Lance found his father packing up a suitcase.

He had originally gone into his parent’s room because he wanted to ask his father if he knew where…  _ something  _ was. Lance couldn’t remember what it was called.

Which, the distraction would’ve been welcome so he had time to remember, had the distraction been anything else.

Lance hadn’t heard any news of a family trip, didn’t know why his father was packing, but when his father spotted him the man didn’t bother explaining.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s up?”

And Lance… He didn’t know anymore.

<~-~>

Lance didn’t understand why his father left.

Didn’t understand why his brothers Luis and Marco left with him.

He just couldn’t fathom a good reason for three of his family members to leave with goodbye hugs and tears from his brothers, and then the three were gathered in Lance’s fathers’ car and driving off.

Lance wouldn’t see them again in a long time.

Of course, the six-year-old was still fairly, well, clueless when it came to a lot of things. So he didn’t know he wouldn’t be seeing his brothers in a long time. Neither did Rachel.

When they were told, they both cried.

Neither of them understood.

One thing Lance could partially understand, however, was the missing pieces to a family photo that would never exist again when July twenty-eighth came.

Now seven years old, Lance gave the camera his mother held in her hands a small, almost forced smile as he felt the need to cry, Rachel doing most of the work when it came to blowing out the candles of their chocolate-vanilla cake.

Later that evening, when the small number of guests that consisted of classmates from first grade and family friends were all gone save for one woman Lance didn’t know well, he left to his room.

He didn’t expect there to be a knock on his door sometime later, but when he registered the noise he silently hoped it’d be Keith, a story in mind to distract him as the boys played a game.

But instead, Lance opened the door of his room to his mother, her expression loving and soft, undertones of sadness showing in the frown lines of her face that the woman had tried to wipe away before talking with her son.

She’d speak with Rachel afterward, but Rosa felt the need to speak with her son first, especially when Veronica, the second eldest sibling, had promised to watch after and comfort Rachel.

“Hola, mijo.” Rosa murmured softly as her son looked up at her with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

The woman nudged her son’s shoulder lightly and stepped into the room, kneeling before Lance and wiping his tears gently. “How are you, mi  _ precioso _ ?” She asked softly, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Lance’s head. The boy sniffled, feeling tears well up in his eyes again as he pressed closer to his mother.

Then, a quiet whimper, “Why didn’t dad come to my birthday? Why aren’t Marco and Luis here? Why did they leave?” 

Rosa sighed quietly, leaning away from Lance and wiping at the moist skin under his eyes gently. “Ay, mi Hijo.” She said sympathetically, wrapping her arms around her little boy before lifting them both off the ground and sitting on Lance’s bed.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out with people… Things didn’t work out with your father and I when I found out he did something bad with… With another woman.” She decided to end her explanation there regarding his father, her eyes sad as she continued, “Your father wanted to take you and your siblings away from me because he loves you all. But I love you all too, so he decided to ask your brothers and Ronnie where they wanted to stay. Your brothers love me, but they have a deeper connection with your dad, so they went with him.” She sighed, the sound just as sad as her olive-green eyes, and Lance sniffled again.

“Why didn’t they come for my- my birthday?” Lance asked quietly, his small hands gripping onto his mother’s shirt as she held him, rocking them both back and forth slightly. She used one hand to wipe at Lance’s face again. 

“I… I’m sure they would’ve come if they could. But, maybe your father just needs some time away still before he comes to see us. I’m sure he won’t be missing anything else.” 

Rosa McClain hated saying that.

Why?   
  


Because she knew it was a lie.

<~-~>

It was later that night, and Lance was alone in his room.

Even after his mother’s explanation and reassurance, something inside of him still ached.

He didn’t understand why.

But this time, he had an idea.

He hadn’t seen Keith today, but maybe it was best that way. Maybe the lack of his best friend’s presence is what provoked the thought and what brought Lance to his small desk, where a window rested above it. On his cushioned wheely chair, Lance balanced himself on his knees carefully and looked out into the night sky, feeling a deep loneliness he’d never felt before.

Under the light of a quarter moon, Lance brought his small hands together and looked to the few stars he could see in the sky. With the lamp posts that filled the neighborhood with light during the darker hours, Lance could only see a few twinkling stars here and there, but he still watched them, enraptured.

Time passed slowly for the boy as he stared at the small collection of stars visible, before his blue irises flicked towards one that seemed to glow brighter than the others in the bunch. Gluing his gaze to the star, he lifted his joined hands to his chest and closed his eyes, letting out a small breath.

“Please,” he whispered quietly into the still air, where he hoped someone heard him, “Please don’t let anyone else leave. Don’t let anyone else miss my birthday’s anymore… Please make sure my friends will always come back…” The boy pleaded quietly, keeping his eyes shut tightly as he wished upon the star that glowed brighter than the rest.

With his eyes closed so brightly, he missed the moment the star flashed brighter once more, a radiant color that could’ve been called violet, before the flash of color faded and clouds moved to cover the stars as the child opened his eyes.

Then, with a stifled yawn and a wipe at his eyes, Lance clambered onto his bed and let sleep take him.

Who knows… Maybe someone out there heard his wish.

<~-~>

From there, though Lance never forgot Keith, he never really saw him again as he grew.

Lance would always assume it was because he moved on and made real friends, but he’d never really know.

Keith was simply gone, no longer a part of Lance’s story, and Lance accepted that their collaboration in writing a nice few chapters together was over after a good friendship.

But, what Lance didn’t realize, Keith’s story was far from over.

<~-~>

Keith Kogane didn’t exactly know where he originally came from.

He knew the basics of life, he had a dad, he used to have a mom, and he was seven years old, old enough to go to school- though he didn’t for some reason.

He knew more than he thought he should.

And maybe he did know more than a seven-year-old should- but that wasn’t the point.

The point could be that he  _ didn’t know _ where he came from, where his other family members were, if he even  _ had  _ any.

But no, that’s not the point either.

The point, between the ages of seven through nine-and-a-third, was Lance McClain.

Keith met Lance at a park- one he lived close to, and even though he couldn’t ever remember making his way to the park in the first place, he met Lance when he was in a tree, in that park.

Keith wasn’t exactly talkative, no, as a child he would mostly ignore the people around them- saw no point in talking to people who would just move on -but with Lance, something had been different.

It could’ve been the fact that he seemed lonelier than Keith was, maybe it was just Keith making a good choice for once, maybe it was fate.

(Or maybe it was something else, something Keith wouldn’t know about until later on.)

Whatever it was, Keith had to thank it- it gave him his first friend.

During his friendship with Lance, Keith appreciated whatever it was in his brain that knew exactly how to help and when to do it- it was useful and made Keith feel like he was a better friend because of it.

But, unfortunately, those two years (and a quarter) that Keith stuck by Lance’s side flew by fairly fast for the boy.

Keith didn’t see Lance on the Cuban’s seventh birthday.

He didn’t see Lance after that much either.

Keith didn’t know what happened, but for a long time, Keith felt like he knew nothing, felt as if time was slipping by without him and one night he found himself outside of the window of his room of his father’s small house, bare feet pressed against cold, wet grass and his violet-gray eyes glued to the sky.

The world seemed too dark and too bright all at once as Keith stared up at the night sky, his face pale compared to his pink cheeks, rosy from the cold. Everything was silent, too silent, and for once in his life, Keith didn’t know what was happening. His gut churned and he felt nauseous, felt as if he was sweating even as he shivered from the cold.

And then, for two heartbeats, then maybe a second more, Keith was plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Another second, and Keith was blinded.

His nauseous feeling disappeared as the bright aura engulfed Keith and he felt the ground slip away, as if gravity was releasing its’ grasp on his essence.

For any other eight-year-old, this could’ve been terrifying or exciting, maybe even calming.

Keith didn’t know what to feel. His mind was blank, body paralyzed, as if he was a robot that had no commands to fulfill.

Maybe that’s exactly what he was.

_ Then he began hearing the whispers. _

<~-~>

Keith was never told what happened to his father.

He just knew he would never see him again.

Keith didn’t like the orphanage, didn’t like the cold it left in his soul and hated the way the staff would look upon him and other children with pity when some family or couple came in looking for a child and skipped right past them, right past  _ him _ , and sometimes left with no child at all.

He remembered the warmth of his home, of his father when he would envelop Keith in a hug.

He didn’t remember that warmth in the orphanage, even from the other children.

And that’s when Takashi Shirogane popped up out of nowhere.

Keith highly doubted Shiro had actually been planning on taking a kid home with him that day, but maybe something in Keith stood out to the man. He didn’t ask then, decided to simply count his blessings while he had them when Shiro was taking him home- to his new home.

Maybe he’d ask later on.

Shiro was nice to Keith, hesitant, gentle and tentative with the right things, goofy and teasing with literally everything else. His two husbands, Curtis and Adam, had seemed pleasantly surprised when Shiro introduced Keith as “their smol sunshine thing- brother -with an emo aftertaste”, and quickly got used to his presence.

Life was nice.

Keith was filled with a warmth he remembered from when he had lived with his father.

_ (And a warmth he couldn’t remember clearly anymore.) _

Everything was fine.

<~-~>

“Life is a  _ disaster _ .”

“No Matt, you’re just a big baby.”

Matt Holt. He was a whole ‘nother story.

Keith met Matt in his early years of high school. Sophomore year, to be exact. With both sharing the majority of their classes, their meeting (and friendship) was inevitable, so says Matt.

At first, Keith hadn’t been very interested in friends. He wanted to focus on his studies so he had time for himself, a way of life both Curtis and Adam believed would create an older Keith who had never had a girlfriend (boyfriend, they corrected when Keith told them his personal preferences sexuality-wise.)

(Shiro, Adam, and Curtis all cried in joy at the fact Keith was “another member of the gay cult”.)

Eventually though, with Matt being even more of a persistent knucklehead than Keith was, the two formed a close friendship over time.

Hanging out became something that happened often, and Matt’s bisexual ass fit right in with Keith’s small, entirely gay-men family.

And Matt’s relentless presence in Keith’s life brought up…  _ A whole lot of messes for Keith to be dragged into just to clean up, let’s be honest here _ .

Shiro would always comment on Matt’s good sense of humor and upbeat attitude- Curtis and Adam both loved him and proclaimed he was Keith’s “cooler and less emo cousin” -which left Keith with the more  _ monstrous  _ parts of Matt.

And boy, could this get embarrassing.

_ “If you don’t watch all of Naruto with me, I will ground you,” Matt announced loudly in the halls between their second period. _

_ Keith cringed as multiple odd looks were sent his way. _

_ “What about you shut up, you fucking corn dog of a human?” _

_ “If I do will you watch Naruto with me?” Matt prompted with a grin. _

_ Keith hesitated, stared at Matt’s smug expression and groaned loudly, rolling his eyes before he mumbled wearily, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” _

_ Matt didn’t speak for the rest of the day. _

(Keith is an unofficial weeb now, Shiro and Adam are both proud, Curtis is confused because he lives under a rock and has no idea what a weeb is.)

<~-~>

_ “Keith. You need a love life so I can tease you about it.” _

_ “Don’t you literally tease me about every other fucking thing?” Keith demanded with a snort, staring at the ceiling.  _

_ “Well, yes. But imagine I get to tease you about you having a boyfriend?” _

_ “Hm, alright. Set me up and you have yourself a once in a lifetime opportunity to tease me, don’t fuck this up.” _

_ … _

_ “You tried setting me up with Griffin?” Keith sent his best friend a judgemental glare, “Why in hell would you do that.” _

_ Matt flushed, grinning sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I thought it’d be like a hot date sorta thing.” _

_ “Griffin literally hates me, worst choice of your life Matt.” Keith snorted in amusement, eyes twinkling as he crossed his arms with a smirk. _

_ Matt huffed, mirroring Keith, “Do I get another chance?” _

_ “Nope. You fucked this up and now I have some good categories for Teasing Matt sessions.” _

<~-~>

_ “If we’re late to astronomy because you insisted on referencing vines to each person that just so happened to be walking by on our way to the fucking bathrooms, you’re dead.” Keith grouched threateningly as Matt leisurely walked at his side. _

_ Matt snickered, “You love me, good sir. Therefore you cannot kill me, good sir.” He snarked, throwing a punch and grinning playfully when he hit Keith’s shoulder. _

_ Keith only sent him a deadly glare, “I can and will kill you if you annoy me, good sir, so don’t test me, good fucking sir.” He deadpanned, eyes practically forming daggers as Matt laughed. _

_ They were late to astronomy. _

<~-~>

In college, Matt insisted he and Keith split the pay for a dorm so they wouldn’t have to walk to their classes all the way from the house each morning.

Keith, albeit reluctantly, agreed in the end.

He wouldn’t be able to say if that was a mistake or not.

When he and Matt were moving in, that’s when Keith finally met Pidge- Katie Holt. With being Matt’s friend, he’d most definitely heard of Pidge, but with the busy schedules he usually had they hadn’t had the chance to meet until then.

Good thing though, they became instant friends.

Matt was almost jealous, or so he claimed.

By this time, Keith was different.

Different than the boy Shiro had found in the orphanage so long ago.

Now, twenty years old, Keith was confident, happy, and a big goofball, though it took a bit of time to see past his layers.

Pidge took her time to get past each layer so she knew Keith, just like Matt had done, and Keith didn’t take quite as long to open up, to gain himself a new friend.

When he went out, he didn’t hide under the shadow of his bangs, he made an effort to be as friendly as possible, he smiled, he joked, he talked to strangers who talked to him and he knew his life was great.

He knew that his past was exactly that, his past, water under the bridge and he didn’t mind one bit.

And then the door to that dorm room opened and he saw a face he thought he’d never see again.

It was shocking, Keith almost dropped his phone in surprise, but he’d always been able to mask his emotions easily; this was no different.

When the door slammed on his face, he took the valuable few moments to school his features and placed on the most confused expression he could muster, knowing deep down that Lance would never believe him, would never believe what happened.

He could’ve kept his gaze on Pidge when they were walking away, he could’ve acted like he had never seen Lance in his life- which was the truth to the people he was close to now -but he couldn’t resist himself.

When he looked back and caught Lance’s startled expression, he was quick to turn away.

But not before he could hide his smirk and the flash of recognition he knew flickered across his iris.

Well… This was bound to be something interesting.

Now, now Keith is here. In a cafe, explaining everything and finally finishing as he took a long swig of water.

<~-~>

Lance stared at Keith for a long moment, silent.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Keith chortled softly and Lance blinked, eyes filled with something that made him look crazy.

“You asked for answers. There’s your answer. Magic, man. I don’t know what happened any better than you do, not really.” Keith insisted, standing and stretching before walking away, tossing his trash into a trash bin. 

Lance took this moment to stare after Keith in bewilderment, reeling. Magic? There was no way.

“Actually there is a way, obviously.” Keith chuckled, walking back and Lance realized he had spoken aloud. He shook his head, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as his eyebrows furrowed.

“No… No, that’s impossible. You expect me to believe that because I wished upon a star and you became solid?”

Keith pursed his lips, “Technically with you I’ve always been solid-”

“That is  _ not  _ the point, Keith.” Lance snapped, voice firm and eyes narrowed.

With that, Lance stood, stomping off with an angry curse under his breath and discarding his empty water bottle in the recycling bin before he was leaving the shop, Keith watching him go with a small sigh.

Turning to his own reflection of the glass of the window, he placed a feeble smile on his face, “He’ll come around. Maybe. If not, you’ve lived your life without him, Kogane. This is fine.” He took a final sip of his water before he gathered the remnants of his cookie and left the small cafe, waving a friendly goodbye to the girl who had taken his order.

“He’ll come around,” Keith repeated to himself confidently as he walked away from the cafe at a leisurely pace.

“And if he doesn’t… Oh well. Not like I don’t have other things to do.”

<~-~>

When Keith was adopted by Shiro, he couldn’t remember much about Lance, or about magic.

He couldn’t remember his past, couldn’t remember that he was magic as well, in a way.

When he turned fifteen, he could vaguely remember some things.

The knowledge came and went like drifting dreams. Sometimes he was able to hang onto what he learned, sometimes he forgot it within the next hour of rest.

As he grew a bit more, he learned.

And he remembered.

Now, he knows.

He knows his past, knows of magic and knows who he is.

He knows what happened to his father, and he’s happy.

He’s happy with the knowledge he has for himself, happy with the memories, and happy to mess with his magic when he’s alone.

Magic was more simplistic than Keith could’ve imagined- or maybe it was just simplistic to him because his whole life was created from the magic of a child’s wish -but Keith enjoyed it nevertheless. With a wave of his hand, a light tinged red would flow from the palm of his hand and dance around his room until he willed it away.

Magic, Keith understood.

It was a simplicity that came with his life.

It was fine.

What wasn’t fine, Keith had learned two years back, was dark magic.

Dark magic wasn’t just magic filled with ill intentions, it was unnatural and disconnected a being from its own soul.

Dark magic, Keith was unfortunate enough to stumble upon when he was nineteen.

Keith, at the time, had been less experienced with his knowledge on magic, how it existed in such a realm that was seemingly magic…-less. 

Luckily, Keith had been able to avoid conflict at the time.

Tonight he wasn’t so lucky.

Working the night shift at a seven-eleven had perks and disadvantages. Sometimes his manager, a guy named Shawn, let him take a bag of chips and a drink when his shift was over so he wouldn’t go hungry till morning, sometimes he got an extra few dollars as a tip by a nice lady who stopped by each night to buy a sweet snack that she insisted she wouldn’t eat until she got home (which, Keith always snorted in amusement because as she walked out into the night air he could see her eat the sweet). Sometimes he got to talk to a teen named Andy who lived just down the street in an apartment with his mom, and Keith would exchange snarks with the humorous teen until Andy would buy a cherry-flavored Gatorade and say goodnight.

Those were just a few of the perks.

Of course, there were a lot of disadvantages to walking alone back to his dorm room at midnight.

One of which, Keith discovered tonight.

<~-~>

“ _ One little duckling swam in a pond, his mother watched him with a look so fond, _ ” Keith sang quietly, hands stuffed into the pockets of his midnight blue hoodie as he left his work.

He hummed to the tune of the song as he walked, keeping his voice quiet.

There wasn’t too many people out at the moment, not that Keith minded, it was nice and peaceful as he walked. It was almost silent, aside from the occasional car or barking dog.

As Keith walked, it got progressively darker, but he didn’t mind. He was used to walking through the dark to get back to where the dorms were on the edge of the college campus.

Keith sang quietly under his breath, one song after another to fill the silence surrounding him in his usual way of keeping any nerves he had at bay.

Keith passed by a flickering lamp post and frowned, vaguely recalling a setting he had once been in that was like this, but he couldn’t remember the event.

He kept walking.

When Keith was only ten minutes away, he felt the need to hurry his pace before something happened.

The feeling in his gut kept him alert and wary, and he was prepared to call the cops if he needed to, breaths shallow and quiet as he strained his ears.

Nothing jumped out at him though, no person emerged from the shadows, and the night was still peaceful. Keith vaguely wondered if he was just paranoid, but he knew it wasn’t likely. He had learned to understand the difference between his impulsive emotions and true danger, and with his churning gut, Keith didn’t doubt something was out there.

Someone was watching him.

When he neared his dorm building, Keith could’ve sworn he felt the familiar tingle of magic’s presence pressing against his consciousness, but he didn’t stick around to see who exactly lingered nearby, especially with the sourness he could feel clinging to the magic.

That couldn’t have been a good type of magic, and Keith was not willing to find out if he had a friend or foe following him that night.

He’d find out later on.

Who knows if the meet would be better or worse.

Only time would tell.

<~-~>

Lance groaned loudly, dramatically, as he draped himself over the couch in his living room. It was another study night with Hunk and Pidge, but Lance found himself distracted.

Distracted by a face he had thus far refused to call pretty.

“Alright, this is the eighth time Lance has groaned, Hunk, figure out what’s wrong with the idiot on the couch.” Pidge snapped, glaring at Lance over the top of her laptop screen. Lance only flipped her off lazily and groaned again.

Hunk sighed, closing the textbook he had been struggling to pay attention to, and turned his gaze to Lance, who perked up at the regarding look Hunk gave him.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Hunk decided, setting down the book and leaning his weight forward from where he was settled on the floor with his legs crossed, “What’s bothering you, Lance?” he asked kindly, eyes genuinely curious.

Lance smiled, before it turned to a frown, “I think I like Keith.” He admitted, feeling himself flush.

His face heated more when Pidge burst out laughing, her work instantly forgotten.

“What?” Lance squawked indignantly, sitting up straight on the couch and staring at Pidge in what could only be described as dismay. Pidge cackled even more.

“He’s so fucking dumb,” Pidge wheezed, and Hunk was nice enough to send Lance an apologetic glance and helpless shrug.

“Why am I so dumb?!” Lance demanded, confused and on the verge of tackling Pidge just to get her to stop laughing. “Pidge!” He squawked again, still indignant.

“You seriously didn’t realize you had a crush on Keith and you didn’t even realize!” Pidge snickered.

“It’s only been like five weeks since you guys met and I’ve seen you send him these fucking looks man, it’s been hilarious.” She snickered again.

Lance pouted, but said nothing. Pidge and Hunk returned to their work when Lance gave no sign of talking anymore, and so that left Lance to think.

Could he like Keith? He had kind of… blow up at the guy the other day… Lance really was stumped this time.

Sure, they had a bit of memories together from their childhood, but could that be enough for Lance to gain a crush? Or was Lance just thinking Keith was a pretty face nowadays?

Lance felt his pout deepen to a frown.

Maybe he’d just have to figure it out as he went.

That, and apologize to Keith for practically saying he was lying to Lance’s face just because Lance didn’t want to belive in magic.

_ God _ , these things are complicated.


End file.
